Innocence Lost
by Silvyia
Summary: DeathNote OC Insert. Death is like a thief; It takes what it wants and gives nothing back, so when a single abused and neglected teen dies of blood loss after running away from her abusive family, she has a hard time believing it when she's given a second chance at life. In an anime that she holds the future to, no less. (OC x ?)


((A/N: Heyo! Welcome to the beginning of the rewrite of my Death Note story, Innocence Lost! Now, since I'm rewriting it and editing a lot of things, some things will be changed and moved around in this story! If something in this rewrite doesn't match up with something from the older story, don't you worry your pretty lil heads, it's meant to be that way. Thank you all for your patience and understanding about the rewrite! I'm so excited to write for you guys again. I missed this story lots.

Now, just like the last story, I will put the warnings right up here;

WARNING, THERE WILL BE THE FOLLOWING IN THIS STORY - CHILD ABUSE, NEGLECT, TORTURE, MENTIONS OF RAPE, AND A BUNCH OF NO NO WORDS.

Now that that is out of the way...

Onto the chapter!))

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Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Trees flew past her face so fast it was a blur.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

She could have sworn she was moving at the speed of sound - or perhaps she just hoped she was.

Deep breath in...

She would have liked to take a deep breath, but she couldn't. The burning in her lungs and the aching in her feet were just two of the many signs that she could not afford to stop and remind herself to breath properly for a moment - not even a moment. Instead, her intakes of breath were quick and panicked, wild and loud as she continued her running.

Running.

Running was one of her earliest memories. Perhaps even one of the best, since nobody could hurt her while she was running. They could throw their words and metaphorical sticks and stones all they wanted, but when she ran, she was _free._

She so desperately wanted that same type of freedom, everyday of her life. Not just the small moments she got to ran. She wanted it every day. She wanted to be able to sit down without worrying about whether or not she was supposed to be there, she wanted to be able to see food in her own home and be able to _eat_ it, not cower away at the memories of what would happen to her if she did such a thing.

She wanted to be able to tell her father that it was okay, when he held her close and apologized to her when he had to leave every morning. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't afraid of her own mother, like he was.

She couldn't.

She had been taught not to lie like that.

She was so desperately afraid.

But it was her life, and wasn't it a normal one? Didn't everybody get yelled at if they made the floorboards creak when they moved? Didn't everybody get locked up and whipped or beaten down every time she spoke her mind, every time she even hinted at the idea of having her own opinions?

That was what she had grown up with, at least. What reason did she have to believe that it should be any different? By the way her father looked so regretful every time his eyes landed on her small, food-starved frame? When he looked into her terrified yet dull green eyes?

Her mother didn't look regretful when she looked into her daughter's eyes.

She'd never wanted children in the first place.

She would have liked to learn how her mother got pregnant first if she had not wanted children, surely she would have been careful, but she never had enough gall to ask. Speaking without being spoken to was against the rules and would surely land her in a load of trouble and punishments.

Either way, her mother hadn't wanted children, but kept the little girl anyway. Religion, her father once told her. She couldn't go against her religion and abort an unborn infant, yet to be given life. It made sense, in a way, she supposed.

But making sense didn't make it any easier for the girl.

And so, here she was, and there she went, through the forest grounds, her small, skinny legs carrying her as far as she could possibly run.

Her mother was so convinced that the little girl was a tame, broken mutt that she never felt the need to secure the home. Not during the day time when there were guests over, and certainly not in the middle of the night when everybody was safe and comfortable in their beds.

Two nights after her father's death, her bright green eyes latched onto the window beside the kitchen counter, and she didn't hesitate.

Not one second.

She would wonder why, in the future, why she was so willing to run then while she had been so afraid to leave all those past years. But that was the future her issue, the only present issue she had was how far she could run, how _free_ she could be.

And then her leg caught on an uprooted stump in the ground and she tumbled, head first, into a large boulder.

And even as she bled out, even as her lungs screamed and her legs were ice cold and on fire at the same time, even as she stared, wide eyed, at the trees around her, she only had one thought.

 _I'm finally free._

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((A/N: As you can see, this is pretty much the same way the first chapter went in the original story, but it's written differently and in a different writing style. I hope you enjoyed! I don't know when I'll get the second chapter out, but I'll try for some time within the next two weeks.

Until then, I hope you all enjoy the Solar Eclipse coming this Monday(if you're capable of viewing it, wherever you are that is)!

Leave reviews, reviews are love!))


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